I Remain
by ithinkimightactuallyloveyou
Summary: Watched the movie yesterday, and I thought, gee, that would be nice if Tamina remembered what happened but couldn't tell Dastan. Voila, here it is. Please review, and Tamina /is/ out of character in her thoughts, that is on purpose.
1. Chapter 1

Dark sand fell in her eyes. It stung her, and battered her already dry mouth. She was hanging on with all her might, her delicate dark hand gripping the strong, tanned, and slightly scarred arm. She looked up, and saw his face, the face that had journeyed with her, the face with the scar, the slight coarse beard, the light Persian eyes, as blue as the Mediterranean Sea. Those eyes were bright with pain and dark worry.

She was hanging, his dark, slightly sweaty hair sweeping across her cheekbones, so close she could count his long horse's eyelashes. The frail sandstone that held them both produced a loud groan, and he, Dastan, roared, half out of sickening worry and half out of pure rage against Nizam. The Dagger was strapped against his worn burgundy sash. Tears streaked down her grimy face, the salt stinging her wriggled her hand furiously, and Dastan shouted,

"I'm not letting you go!"

She felt the kohl running down slightly across her screamed as loud as she could,

"Dastan, this is my destiny! I wish we could have been together."

She felt so sad at these words, even though she was the one who spoke them.

"No, Tamina! No!"

She twisted free. She felt rushing wind, and suddenly, so, so afraid.

"Dastan!" she screamed, high and terribly, her throat hurt. Then an even more horrible sound.

"Tamina!"

His voice was so thick with a horrible, horrible pain, a sickening thick fright. She had never heard her name in such a way. Soon, it faded, yet the sound still rang in her ears. She fell.

Tamina woke up gasping for air. Her wavy ebony locks were damp and uneven, her dark golden olive skin a sickly color. She bent forward on her pallet, and rubbed her amber eyes. She felt like throwing up. Through the thin sheet of her ivory tent, it was still night, the bare moon shining through and hitting her thin shoulders. She was cursed, cursed with restless hours of sleep, with horrible nightmares, and mostly of screams and falling and Dastan. Especially Dastan. It haunted her, how his face was twisted with so much horror, how his voice was distorted with pain. She rubbed her palms together, and saw the slight gold finish on her dark red henna, the five pointed star in the middle, to represent the five walls of Alamut. Now, the star was the center of a more ornate design, with swirls and runes that stretched like ivy on her feet and hands. Wedding henna. The tent was now a claustrophobic environment, so thick with her angst.

She could not tell him she loved him so such, so much it hurt her with an ache that hurt just below her ribs. Tamina clamored out of the soft pallet, and wrapped herself in an airy cream gown. Peeked her head out of the tent, and silently slipped out, barefooted. It hurt, like a physical pain, so badly. She was guardian of the Dagger, but she is also the Chalice, the Priestess. She held all of the Dagger's memories, all of them locked away. But, she is vowed, sworn by the Gods, to never reveal her memories. She must lie to Dastan, to see his heartbroken face every time he caught the eye of her. To see the horrible pain in his eyes, so horrible, to see his rugged face, with the singular scar, be living in the moment where she fell, how she let him go, how he let her go. She could not tell him, she had to be cold to him. Tamina shivered slightly under the pale gown. Looking up to the heavens, she saw the starry, a web of delicate diamonds in the air.

She ran towards the gardens, her raven hair streaming behind her. She reached the gardens, the quiet burble of the fountains interrupting her. She leaned against the wall, her breath caught in her throat. Her olive skin matched the color of the stone wall. Brushing the small of her back against the rough sandstone, it brought back bad memories. Tamina peered over, and saw the familiar figure, the one she had despised, grow to love, and now forced to hate again. In the stark moonlight, she saw his long hair fall in a dark curtain in front of his face, a glimmer of the silver bead he wore hidden in the mass of locks. He ran his fingers through his hair, allowing his face to be shown. Faint tear tracks ran down his slightly hollow cheeks, marking his familiar scar. Tamina's face flushed a delicate pink color, highlighting her freckles. She fought the urge to grin stupidly, even though he was sad, he was so handsome. Scowling, she thought angrily to herself, 'Now, you can't act if you do this every time you see him.' Her nose wrinkled, and she slid down the wall. The rustle of the dress must've startled him, and Tamina's breathing rate was now at a very soft and slow level. He wiped himself, and put on a brave face. He grabbed his sword, the one he always wore, so hard that his tan knuckles turned ghostly white. Tamina slowly moved along the wall, trying to make it towards the gate. Dastan was quicker, in three steps; he was there, his sword against her throat, and in the shadows, her form lost.

"Well, you seem to be quick with that sword, Lion of Persia."


	2. Chapter 2

She said softly, contempt dripping from every word. She hated it, but to make it believable she must.

"Princess Tamina?" Dastan said his expression wary.

"Yes, _Princess _Tamina, who else did you think it was, Tus taking a nightly stroll in the gardens wearing a dress and a wig?"

Dastan scowled, and she narrowed her eyes. It was all an act; it took more force from her than it did to react calmly to a knife at her throat. She ducked the knife, and scoffed. Tamina started into the eyes of Dastan. All he saw in her eyes was wariness, and coldness, while all she saw in his eyes was longing, sadness, contempt, anger, and well...love. She tensed her body, and turned away rapidly. Tamina began running, her feet pounding against the ground.

"Tamina!"

Dastan shouted, and chased after her. Tamina ran even faster, through the winding passageways, under bridges, having no idea where she was going, and was now acutely aware of the stinging in her eyes. She roughly chased tears away with her sleeve, leaving a dark black streak against the gauzy fabric. Tamina didn't know why she was crying, was it because so was nervous? No, not that. Was it because the wedding was tomorrow? No, it isn't that. It was because she knew that look on a face, the look that somebody was about to reveal something, something forbidden and dangerous. Running, and running. She concentrated on the pounding of the earth on her feet, the rough grains of sand dusting her thin dress, and closing her eyes as best as she could. Faint yells of her name broke the silence in her mind, and Tamina kept running. A dead end soon blocked her path, and she cursed herself for not studying the city more closely. Dastan's silhouette stood at the entrance to the back dead end, which she now found out, by the retched smell, was a garbage dump.

"I need to tell you something, Princess Tamina." Dastan whispered his voice eerily sharp in the dead of night.

'No, no, no!' Tamina thought in her head, her mind ages ahead, so afraid of what would happen, so angry at herself for not knowing. She scolded herself silently for feeling afraid. Driving all her anger into her voice, she spat,

"What? What was so highly important that it possessed you to chase me down like a hare?"

"Maybe it's because you ran, Princess."

Dastan withdrew the Dagger of Time from his robe, its ruby button gleaming in the moonlight. The spiral of runes twisted down the side, telling of the legend of the little girl and the Great Sandstorm in an ancient tongue that was taught to all Guardians of the Dagger. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes and sucked air in, and said sharply,

"You have about five seconds to tell me how you have the Dagger and if you know more about it."

One Alamut, two Alamut…

"A guard had it in his hands. Y-you know when I captured Alamut and, err, well…" he stumbled.

"Don't you speak. Not. One. Word. You have used the Dagger haven't you?" she snapped, her dark brows furrowing into a sharp straight line. Her dark amber-honey eyes blazed with a hellish sort of fire, one only Tamina was capable of. She ran her fingers through her hair and paced. Tamina stopped suddenly, and her tone softened.

"Dastan, please, tell me, what happened to me when you used the Dagger? What happened, with…us?"

Tamina felt the words come out with a hard edge, and she nearly choked when she said the well, the 'u' word. Us. Strange how it felt coming out of her throat, in her voice."Nizam forged weapons and said they were from Alamut. He attacked the city, as you know, and gave me a prayer robe to give to Father. But, he had poisoned the robe and framed me for the killing of my father. I took you and ran, and you, well..." His voice broke down. Tamina looked at her feet. They were dusty now, the henna slightly faded, but the star still struck out boldly.

Tamina whispered something, so quietly that it was lost in the alley.


	3. Chapter 3

Dastan was struck dumbfounded. "Just leave me alone!" she screamed, and stomped like a little child throwing a tantrum, her dark, beautiful hair flying in all directions before she ran off. Dastan smacked the heel of his palm in between his eyes. 'Shit. Do I always do this to these damned females?' he thought for an instance before his thoughts gathered back to Tamina.

How did she know she died? Why did she act this way? Dastan messed with his dark brown hair nervously. Did she see him in the garden? Him, the future King of Alamut and Prince of Persia crying? Over something that happened? Over that Tamina would never find out what happened between them? What if she remembered? But that would be impossible, would it? That would be the transcript of Dastan's thoughts in this moment. Yes, right now, his thoughts were confusing, only interrupted by thoughts of his marriage, wait, what? Thinking of that singular word, well, to be honest, god damned freaked him out.

Like any other guy, the prospect of 'marriage' was the worst thing that can happen to him, other than circumcision. But marriage was basically that. But, Gods above, he was lucky. Tus had to marry three old hags, and Garsiv married four ugly women-if they were that- from India. Dastan actually loved Tamina, so much it hurt. She was the most beautiful creature on the planet to him, but, she hated him, as much as he loved her. He could see it in her eyes as she looked at him, sense it in the way she avoided him, so deliberately

. Dastan hated this, it was like rubbing salt in a wound, able to see the woman he loved, able to talk to her, but her not being able to love him back. Dastan messed with the back of his head, and started to go back to the palace. Wedding, wedding, wedding. Three words that filled his head right now, so strange, out of place, alien, even. Shaking his head, he made it back to his quarters, hoping for a nightmare free day, one night of peace. This did not come.

He dreamt of Tamina, of falling, or daggers and sand. He dreamt of sugar and weddings and his father dying in front of his very eyes. He dreamt of holding and losing, of wanting and longings and of all the plagues and pestilence in the world. The worst? Tamina falling. It replayed like a battle scene, unable to help watching with a distinct horror. Feeling the pain as though it was reality.

Too late, he woke up, in the gray area of dawn and daybreak, his throat and mouth felt as though a pit scorpion has been using it for a nest. Horrible.

Tamina was awakened at the dark hours of morning before the rosy fingered Dawn could swim across the sky. Tamina felt slightly, as a tremendous understatement, discombobulated. Touch and smell, that was all she could see, her head swimming with too many thoughts, of too many dreams and nightmares, and too many secrets. What she said in the alley was probably lost, but she could take no chance. She would drug Dastan, take the Dagger, and leave, disappear into the night. Or day.

It didn't really matter anymore. Something hollow had taken up residence in Tamina's heart, its creeping venom tainting everything it touched. Tamina faintly registered her henna being touched up, painted with flecks of copper, her dark wavy hair being brush harshly, and twisted into a side plait interwoven with fine chains of gold and pearls. Darker kohl was applied under her eyes, along with a thin gold powder smeared on her olive eyelids. A silk white dress adorned her body, with gold embroidery.

Her maids, well, maids of Persia, had soft lambskin cloths and brushed the gold everywhere softly, making sure it shone in the lamp light. Tamina wanted to scream. She hated all of this damned jewelry, all of this frilly fanciness. But, what Tamina hated the most was one of the maids, Likuta. She kept fluttering around like a bird, humming about Tamina was so lucky to be wedded to a Prince of Persia, how she was going to love being ignored by Prince Dastan, and how she was going to get along with all the other wives. 'She ought to be hung,' Tamina thought viciously, 'And I would be her hangman.' Suddenly, all of the maids sat hushed, and tittered, covering their mouths.

By what Tamina could understand, she stood up and looked in the mirror of polished silver. She looked horrible. Tamina has soon whisked away by more twittering maids, into the deep chambers of the Royal Palace. Suddenly, it finally hit Tamina like a speeding horse. She was getting married. To a man that now, she wasn't sure if she loved or not. The idea scared her half out of her wits, and her hands began to shake. It was a nervous habit, something that always seemed to pop up at the worst moment. "Gods above." She muttered mutinously, and looked at the door. The maids had just left, gossiping about her, and possibly Dastan.

Catching her eyes, she saw two Ngbaka men guarding the doors, one with a knife whose grip was an ivory copy of his own head. Tamina prayed for a second, trying to calm her nerves when the doors were opened and a purple silk pillow was brought in, with two silver rings. 'That's it,' she thought quite suddenly and something inside Tamina snapped.


	4. Chapter 4

She jumped and ran like a horse, running, running through the chambers. A knife whittled by her head, and she head the deep footsteps running after her, rumbling and crashing. Tamina made it outside to the royal stables. Grabbing a deep ebony horse with a white mane and tail, she mounted the beast, like a man, and grabbed onto it's thick muscular neck, and cried a command, and the horse took off into the streets, packed with throngs of people trying to see the wedding. The horse's familiar clop on the stone streets comforted her, and when she was almost out of the city, she saw him. Tamina knew it was Dastan, she knew that burgundy sash and lively eyes anywhere. They made eye contact, and Tamina looked away, urging the horse to go faster. In seconds, she was away from the city, the horse's hooves kicking up the fine sand in a trail, soon whisked away by the sweeping desert wind. Horse steps soon greeted her, and Tamina turned around, to see a figure slowly approaching, the tiny backdrop of the city fading before her eyes. Her hair was already loose, the gold chains and jewels long lost in the sands. Soon, the silhouette closed in on her, and she had a faintly good idea about who it was. Maybe fifteen minutes later, it was evidently Dastan, on horseback, in wedding clothes, but extremely dusty and torn-up.

Dastan soon caught up to Tamina, and grabbed her shoulder roughly.

"Why the _hell_ did you run?" he gasped, a slight anger burning furiously in his eyes and expression.

"Why the _hell _did you come after me and why are you like…this?" she spat, pinching his shirt up, in disgust. But, she had to admit, he was kind of handsome.

"Hassassin." He said, looking disturbed. "Why you decided to run off, again, we were attacked! And I, like a fool chased after you, but they.."

His voice failed him, and he looked the other way harshly.

Tamina withdrew her hand, and was afraid what she was going to hear.

"And they what?" she whispered, her eyes bright with worry.

"And the killed my father!" Dastan screamed, tear tracks running down his face. "And I had to see him dead again!" He tried not to sob, the strain evident on his face.

"And maybe, he could have still been alive if I hadn't been a fool and chased after you…" he nearly sobbed.

Tamina momentarily felt extremely bad for Dastan, but then her mind was over taken by other thoughts. Was the dagger safe? She would have to take it. She didn't want to, but it was her duty, something tied to her so closely, the line was blurred between her and her responsibilities. Maybe, for the first time ever in her short life, Tamina realized something.

Without her duties, she had no idea who she was.

Tamina's whole life revolved around this dangerous Dagger, and if the Dagger did not exist, Tamina would not exist. She was born for the sole purpose of guard the Dagger, and if she failed, well, let's just say that things will not be pretty.

"Yes, he died, again, but he wouldn't be dead, again, in the first place, if you hadn't used the Dagger!" Tamina said in an angry tone.

"Oh, no, don't you blame it on me, Princess." Dastan sneered. "If _you_ hadn't run off, I would have fought them off!"

"Yes, the brave and noble Prince Dastan, leaping to the rescue of every single _cursed_ thing like they couldn't protect themselves!" she said, sarcasm dripping audibly in her voice.

"Like you could have survived in the desert without food, water, or a single weapon!"

"Like you could have let me go, instead of jumping to the rescue of the fair Princess who doesn't know how to take care of herself!"

"Who said you were fair?" Dastan snorted.

"Well, there must be a reason why you can't stop looking at me." Tamina replied coolly.

Dastan scoffed, and rode ahead, making Tamina almost push her horse to canter over to Dastan.

"Well, do you have the Dagger?" Tamina forged ahead. One thing that Tamina would probably never get over Dastan was how he always forget the, oh, yes, the Dagger was the most important thing in the universe and that, oh, it could destroy the world. But no, it was more important following Tamina, she thought mutinously to herself.

"Yes, I have the Dagger." Dastan said icily, in a slightly brittle voice.

"Where is it?" Tamina said in the same tone, almost mockingly.

"Look, I have it, okay Princess?" he said, in a voice that was tinged with just a bit of worry.

"If you have it, show it to me." Tamina said sharply, her experience picking out the sliver of nerves in Dastan's voice.

"No, I will not, because, um, because…" Dastan said, his voice trailing off.

"You lost the Dagger! Please, please do not tell me you lost the Dagger! Of course you did, you illiterate barbaric imbecile! You and all of the Persians are the same, camel-stinking, war-crazed mongrels that are nothing better than street rats!" Tamina raged, her voice becoming higher and higher. "I cannot believe you, Dastan! You lost the Dagger. You lost the Dagger. You. Dastan. Lost. The. Dagger. The most important Dagger in the whole Persian Empire, and everywhere else, and you lost it! You're nothing more than scum picked out of a gutter!"

Now, at least, Tamina wasn't lying. Now, it was like the before the before, when they were travelling to the King's funeral. The first one. Gods above, she loved him yet she wanted to squeeze his head until it exploded. Or, until the growth that is pressing on his non-existent brain be destroyed.

Then, the magnitude of the whole situation dawn, if only little by little, on Tamina.

The Dagger of Time, the one she had sworn to protect, the one that so many lives had been killed and worse for it, the one that could possibly turn the Gods' anger over to a giant sandstorm to envelope the world.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry for not being more active, but I've been a little busy. I promise, there will be more chapters all these weeks. In this chapter, Bis is coming! Yes, Bis is in this chapter. Garsiv and Tus will appear later on, I promise. **

**Please, review! I don't know what to do if you don't review!**

That very Dagger was possibly in the hands of Hassansins. They could use this power for evil, and turn the fate of mankind in the hands of the angry and vengeful Gods.

Dastan was silent for a while, his face shrouded in a slight sadness. "Maybe I'm really scum out of a gutter, because that's where the King picked me up from the streets." He said quietly, and almost instantly, Tamina's anger was dissolved totally. How could have she forgotten? How? It was the defining thing about Dastan, the secret that few knew. Well, it wasn't too much of a secret, yet it was quite a sensitive topic for him. Tamina kicked herself over and over in her head, wishing, begging almost, why she had the bone-headedness of saying those hurtful words.

Well, it serves him right, she thought, her soldier like duty overcoming the soft empathy part of her.

"Well, um, I didn't really mean it…well." She stuttered slightly, a moment of pure embarrassment for the usually cool and collected Princess. Dastan looked ahead, and Tamina copied him. There was this moment of awkward silence, and uncomfortable presence that added pressure, the tension was tight and thick, and it was almost so pressing that Tamina wanted to explode. Where were the moments of laughter? Where were the jokes? The light heart? None of them existed now. The moments in the alley were lost, the thin thread of a formal comradely relationship completely banished. Tamina felt rather strange now, a rare moment of complete flabbergastery.

"Where are we going?" she asked, formally, like she was talking to a complete stranger.

"Somewhere where we can find shelter." He said, in a detached voice.

It was almost twilight now, and the temperature was dropping quickly. The sky was now a rich painting of eggplants and striking ruby, with the sun and moon out at the same time. The sand was kicking up and she could feel her horse's muscles twitching, in an involuntary movement. It was well dark, when Tamina and Dastan found a small grove of palms and a pool of indigo water. Tamina jumped off her horse, and waited while Dastan turned away to fix his horse's saddlebag. Peering in to the deep darkness, she thought she saw a flicker of flames. She must be imagining things. She squinted more, and to her surprise, it was flames. Somebody was here.

"Dastan, look over there. Is that a fire? Someone is here." She said, rushed and worriedly, her dark eyebrows contracting together in a frown.

Dastan looked into the distance. "Someone is here." He murmured, and gripped is curved sword, a familiar grasp.

They walked together, jumping at the smallest noise, and they possibly were scared to death when a familiar voice appeared.

"So, there's Dastan and the Princess!"

The voice was connected with a mop of curly raven colored hair, a beard, ruddy cheeks, and a man of short stature.

"Bis?" Tamina and Dastan said at the same time.

"That's me!" Bis said, jester-like timing, with voice, tinged with laughter.

Dastan embraced Bis in a brotherly hug, and said, relieved, "God above, Bis, I thought you were dead!"

"Well, I'm not dead, or you would have been hugging a corpse!", he said cheerfully, grinning cheekily.

"Are Tus and Garsiv alive?" Dastan said worriedly to his friend.

"Yes, don't worry. They're at Alamut." He said, waving his hand airily in the air, a bit serious now.

"What are they doing in my city?" Tamina said huffily, almost pouting like a young girl. She was rather bothered at the fact that some flea ridden barbarians were residing in her city, but what bothered her most is that they had no respect for other cultures, so they might try to siege the city, since they had just lost theirs.

Bis and Dastan rolled their eyes together, like brothers.

"It isn't your city, Princess. And, we wouldn't attack it." Bis said with a exhausted sigh.

"How do you know? It's not like Garsiv and Tus left you in the loop." Tamina sneered, her dark eyebrows jolting together into a fierce, almost hawk like line.

Dastan sighed and explained, strained, "She's like this. Just ignore her, and she's possibly shut up."

"I'm right here, you know! I can hear you!" Tamina cried, getting more frustrated. Didn't anyone care that the most important item in the world was in the wrong hand? Anybody? No? Well, Tamina cared, and that was all she cared about. This was her life, and currently, her life was in the blood stained hands of the Hassansins.

Bis leaned over, and stage whispered, "Dastan, I don't think it's working."

Tamina let out a little scream of frustration, one that was rare, but the tag team duo of the Royal Fool and the Common Pig was a bit too much for even her to take. Stomping off to the other side of the small oasis, she nearly ripped the horse's blanket off of its strong black spine, and laid it on the sandy ground. It wasn't the best, but it would have to make do. Lying down, she curled up like a cat, Tamina tucked her head in between her knees, just making her a ball of flesh and clothes. Closing her eyes, she waited for sleep to come, and to take her away to her past life. Maybe this was fate, but tonight, she didn't dream of anything. It was not a dream; it was a blurred reality, with sights, smells, and sounds. It wasn't clear to Tamina, and somehow, that scared her. Tamina wouldn't admit it, but she was scared. Not for her, not for Dastan, not even for the Dagger. She was scared for the world.


End file.
